


Try Not to Breathe

by der_tanzer



Series: Protective Custody [16]
Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-19
Updated: 2010-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:10:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/der_tanzer/pseuds/der_tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He will breathe when it's time.  Right now, he's happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Try Not to Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Graphic sex and something else. Imaginations required. The title is, of course, borrowed from REM.  
> 

Murray knelt beside the bed like a child saying his prayers, but tonight he wasn't praying. All of his prayers were being answered by the man inside him, thrusting slow and gentle, loving him tenderly and driving him insane. He needed to come, had needed to for a good five minutes, but Ted was acting young and frisky, not at all like a man in his fifties who sometimes had trouble holding out. Murray's hands fisted helplessly in the sheets as he rubbed himself against the side of the mattress. But when he got close, his body clenching and drawing together in preparation for release, Ted pulled out and held him still, well away from even the mattress and its less than perfect stimulation. Murray groaned in disappointment, the sound transferring some of the pressure from his cock to Ted's.

"Why're you stopping?" he whined, looking over his shoulder to fix pleading eyes on his sweat-soaked lover.

"Making it last, genius. You don't get to come 'til I do, and that's not for a while."

"Oh," Murray said, as if that made perfect sense. It changed to a drawn out, "Oohhh," as Ted pushed into him again, one long, slick sliding move that went on until the head of his cock hit Murray's gland and seemed to puncture his heart and lungs. He collapsed on the bed, his chest caving in under the weight of so much pleasure, leaving him endlessly exhaling and unable to draw breath.

"You okay?" came a gentle voice from far away.

"Mmm," was Murray's response as the thick shaft began to move within him once more. Ted's hand, broad and heavy, closed around Murray's cock and stroked slowly, more slowly than he thought he could bear, but his other hand gripped Murray's bony hip and restrained him from thrusting into it. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek on the soft blankets, scented with the sweet, musky scent of his lover, and waited to see if he would start breathing again.

"Hey, Murray," Ted whispered, releasing his hip to lean forward, lean _into_ him, and catch a fistful of his hair.

"Hmm?" A question this time. Of sorts.

"Breathe, baby. Come on, take a breath."

Murray exhaled just a little more and then sucked air like he was breathing through a straw underwater. Ted pulled back and thrust hard, hitting his tender gland and making him gasp out the small breath he'd managed to gather. It seemed that at some point, one of those sweet, sharp blows would make him gasp _inward_, but Murray kept collapsing, his chest narrowing as if his very ribs were breaking. Ted worked his cock faster, harder, thumbing his slit for a few seconds before gliding down to fondle his tightly drawn sac, and Murray moaned happily beneath him, but all his sounds were outward bound. Pulling his hair, biting his shoulders, raising bruises the side of Liberty dollars, Ted kept on thrusting, slow and steady, jarring small groans and sighs from the crumbling man beneath him.

"Breathe for me, baby," he murmured.

"Can't," Murray sighed. "Not yet."

Ted sat back on his heels, pulling Murray off the bed by his shoulder and, to a lesser extent, his hair. The sudden depth of penetration forced another cubic centimeter of air from his body and he filled that space with Ted, absorbing his lover through his very skin. Ted's arms around him were strong and all-encompassing, holding him too tightly, crushing him as Murray rocked and thrust. That resistance was almost enough and Murray thought he would be able to breathe soon. Oh, very soon. Ted's hand went to his aching, leaking cock and he was sure of it. Murray turned his head, nuzzled Ted's cheek, and gave him the last bit of air in his lungs.

"Lieutenant," he whispered, the word he wanted on his tongue when he died, and Ted caught his mouth in a frantic, hungry kiss. When he exhaled, Murray swallowed it down and came, hard and silent, like an explosion in the vacuum of space. Ted squeezed him tighter but Murray's chest was expanding in his arms, his ribs unfolding, wrinkles spreading out of collapsed lungs and absorbing every available molecule of oxygen. The rippling spasms of his body drew Ted's own climax from him, an orgasm of relief as much as ecstasy, and Murray lay limp in his arms, feeling it everywhere, soaking it up.

The next time Murray opened his eyes, he was lying on a grassy highway shoulder, the mangled wreck of Ted's unmarked Caprice on his right and Ted himself on his left. His head hurt, his chest was aching, and all of his being was suffused with a terrifying mix of pleasure and pain.

"Jesus, kid, you gave me a scare," Ted whispered, stroking his face with a hand that trembled. Murray pushed himself up on his hands and leaned against the broad chest, so like in his dream. Beginning to remember now how long the drive from the city had been, how he'd dozed off to the steady drone of the freeway, trusting Ted to get them home.

Now he heard sirens in the distance, the voices of strangers getting out of their cars, and pushed it all away. Even the person in the other car, the one that had cut them off and caused the Caprice to roll, wasn't really a part of this.

"It's all right, Lieutenant. I can breathe now."

"I see that. But—but, Jesus. For a minute there I thought you were gone."

"I think I was, Ted. But it was okay. You were there."

The lieutenant's blue eyes widened, scared and oddly wet, and Murray pushed the pain back a little more. Enough to raise up another inch and kiss him, tasting life over the flavor of the blood and dirt that filled his mouth. Tasting the air that had brought him back.


End file.
